


A Black Tie Affair

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A party, Shepard thought, was never boring when it involved Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Black Tie Affair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aquafrost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquafrost/gifts).



"I'm going to kick their ass." Jack said, her hands already neatly balling into fists as Shepard placed a hand around the back of her dress, subtly tugging her angry biotic girlfriend into her arms before she could discharge her energy into something less...fortunate.

"It's alright," she said, her soft smile quirked up into a dress. "I don't mind the stares. People aren't used to the prosthetic yet."

"Tsh." Jack shrugged off her bolero, turning with all her tattoos visible towards the salarian councilor and flipping him off.

Valern looked at her, blinking for a few moments, then turned away. 

"Feel better?" Shepard asked.

"Much."

"Punch, ladies?" A waiter said, moving towards them. Shepard sighed with relief. Alcohol was going to either make this soiree a lot easier, or a lot less boring. Either would beat the tedium of making nice with a bunch of politicians who had never been particularly happy to see her survive in the first place. 

Jack took a cup—that was sign things were heading down the "not boring" path. Shepard tried using her mechanical hand to grasp a cup of punch from the waiter's try. She bit back a curse of her own as she missed on the first try, then narrowed her eyes as the cup suspiciously flew into her waiting plastic palm.

"Jack." She said as the waiter hurried on to the next table. "We talked about this. I need to get the hang of this stuff myself."

Jack shrugged. "Sorry. I just didn't want fuckin' Froglegs back there trying to rip away your Spectre status just because you fumbled with your new hand a couple times."

"It doesn't matter to me if I'm a Spectre." 

"Hey, it comes in handy." Jack grinned as she took a sip of her punch. "I mean, if we do decide to go the privateer route, it helps to be state-sanctioned pirates."

"I'm pretty sure it's not going to work like that, Jack." She smiled. She couldn't deny Jack was already half dressed for the job—she hadn't been able to convince her to wear her a matching cheongsam or even a standard evening dress – black tie was one of the many things that Jack felt was beyond stupid. They had compromised on a pair of black pants and a slim leather bustier that screamed 'pirate queen'.

She bet Aria owned at least six of them for formal occasions. 

Aria. She sighed. At least being official, they'd never have to stop at Omega to refuel. That alone was more than reason enough to stay on the side of the law. "Think of the paperwork, Jack." 

"Yeah, that sucks." Jack made a face. Three years of teaching had taught Jack the joys of bureaucracy, and Shepard was pretty sure that they'd light a bonfire filled with their respective paperwork when they finally retired. "I guess we shouldn't set sail for too long. I mean, Eezo and Pickles might get lonely."

Pickles was, officially, Shepard's therapy dog. Unofficially, he was Jacks' second biotic baby. Shepard was getting good with that frying pan. 

"Hm." She grinned. "Well, every good pirate crew needs a good mascot. Who says we can't have two?"

“Shep." Jack scoffed. "Where are we gonna find dog sized eye patches?"

"Probably at a place a bit more interesting than this party," Shepard hissed, and was rewarded with a bark of laughter from Jack. 

Jack grinned at her.

"Wanna try to go find it?" She raised an eyebrow. Shepard nodded, covertly.

A beautiful Asari matron sashayed up to them, her heels clinking in time with the restrained piano music. "Ladies. Are you...enjoying...this evening?" Her eyes remained locked on Shepard's scar over her one green eye for a moment, then trailed down to Shepard's prosthetic arm.

Shepard caught the tension in Jack's back as she hurled mental daggers at the asari, and placed a hand on her wife's back. 

Jack glanced at her, then nodded. "Actually, ma'am, my wife's feeling a bit ill." 

"Ah, I see." The asari looked at Jack for a moment, then back at Shepard. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's been fun, but I think we need to head back." Jack tilted her head toward Shepard. "Less you want her to puke or something."

"No, definitively not." She held out a hand toward Jack, who stared at it. 

Ever the diplomat, Shepard leaned over into her girlfriends space, finishing the handshake.

"Sorry about this, ma'am," she mumbled.

"As am I," Venita said, smoothing out her dress. "It was...interesting.... to meet you both."

"Yeah, something like that." Jack said, putting a hand on Shepard's shoulder for a routine show of support. "Now can we please get the fuck out of here?"

"O-of course," Venita said, bowing gracefully and heading back toward the salarian councilor with the sort of eager grace that only a gossip could master.

"So," Shepard said softly as Jack "helped" her toward the door. "Want to see if Party Citadel sells novelty eye patches at 10pm?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Jack said, laughing softly as she purposefully closed the doors with a far too loud biotic bang.


End file.
